


On-Again, Off-Again, Again

by the_corinthian



Category: Interview With the Vampire (1994), Vampire Chronicles - All Media Types, Vampire Chronicles - Anne Rice
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, American High School AU from someone who never went to American high school, Crack, I have one skill as a fic writer and it's writing stupid comedy AUs for this gothic horror series, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, M/M, Marius is probably definitely creepy, Mild Sexual Content, Prom, Romantic Comedy, Romantic Gestures, dramatic breakups, mischaracterization for the sake of comedy, pls don't sue me Anne Rice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:54:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23071264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_corinthian/pseuds/the_corinthian
Summary: Louis had thought over their relationship and determined an average time that they were apart as well as the time they were together so he could time the break-up just right; give Lestat time to rage and give him the cold shoulder before inevitably thawing enough that Louis could enact his incredibly elaborate promposal. Then, all they had to do was make it two weeks until prom without breaking up. Louis was certain they could do that. Not because he was so certain in the strength of their relationship, but because that was close enough to prom that even Lestat wouldn’t risk splitting up with him.Louis was going to attend prom with his boyfriend damn it, even if he had to break up with him to ensure that it happened.
Relationships: Armand/David Talbot/Marius de Romanus, Armand/Marius de Romanus, Lestat de Lioncourt/Louis de Pointe du Lac
Comments: 6
Kudos: 63





	On-Again, Off-Again, Again

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Lestat and Louis' complete inability to stay together for any significant length of time, I present to you this ridiculous VC High School AU
> 
> This fic was betaed by mumsisdaughter. Thank you so much, I'm sorry it took me so long to actually publish this after you'd edited it.
> 
> Obligatory plea for Anne Rice to not sue me for this nonsense.

“We can’t do this,” is all Louis manages to get out before Lestat’s tongue is in his mouth.

Louis allows this for a minute before pushing Lestat away. “Seriously, Lestat,” Louis says.

“Why can’t we do this?” Lestat asks. “The only person who ever uses the band room at lunchtime is Mr. De Romanus when he wants to play the piano. And I saw Armand on the way to his office earlier so I think he’s occupied.”

“Wait, are they—” asks Louis, distracted.

“No. Armand says, and I quote, “our relationship remains intellectual and platonic and that is fulfilling for both of us at this juncture,” which means that Armand still hasn’t gotten him to put out yet.”

Louis nods. “That’s probably good. I’m pretty sure it’s at least a little illegal.”

Lestat shrugs. “All the best things are. Now,” he says, leaning in towards Louis. “Where were we?”

Louis ducks out from under Lestat’s arm. “We can’t.”

“Why?” Lestat pouts.

Louis takes a breath. He’s practised this speech to himself over and over as he lay in bed last night and again in front of the mirror that morning. But getting the words out while Lestat is right there is even harder than he’d anticipated.

“How long have we been together, Lestat?” Louis finally asks.

“Over a year if we don’t count that summer you were in France,” Lestat answers promptly.

And therein lies their problem.

“No, Lestat. We’ve been together three weeks.” Lestat stares at him, his confusion slowly making its way into anger.

“We’ve been together three weeks,” Louis repeats. “That’s how long it’s been since our last breakup.”

****

Three weeks ago, Lestat had come to Louis’ window at midnight with his iPhone playing a song Lestat himself had written and performed on full blast. Unfortunately, Louis slept on the second floor with his window shut and the tiny, iPhone speaker could not play music loud enough to wake him.

Once Lestat had realized Louis wasn’t coming down to meet him, he used the spare key hidden beneath the flowerpot to invite himself in. Lestat had crept up to Louis’ bedroom where he again played the song on full volume. This time standing beside Louis’ bed. This had gotten Louis’ attention and had made for quite a startling wake-up call.

“Lestat!” Louis hissed. “What are you doing here? Turn that down, my parents are sleeping!”

Lestat turned the music off. “I’ve come to win you back,” he declared. “I want you to be my boyfriend again.”

Louis had just woken up and was far too tired to deal with Lestat at full capacity. “Fine, yes. We’re boyfriends again.”

Lestat beamed at him. “That was quick,” Lestat said. “Usually you make us talk about our problems and how to avoid doing them again before you get back with me.” Louis said nothing. He was far too tired to dissect what went wrong in their previous four-week run of dating to consider this conversation.

“Was it my grand romantic gesture?” Lestat asked.

“Huh?”

“I wrote you a song, Louis! And I stood outside your window like that guy in that movie did and everything! Though that was clearly wasted on you,” he added.

“Yeah, it was real romantic, Lestat,” Louis agreed. He really did want to go back to sleep.

“I knew it!” cheered Lestat. “I’ll let you get some sleep now. See you tomorrow in school.” Lestat swooped to kiss Louis and then exited his room.

In the morning, Louis had almost thought he’d dreamed the entire encounter until he arrived at school and saw Lestat waiting by his locker holding a single, red rose.

The breakup that preceded this was not their first and, Louis knew, would not be their last. Louis had dated Lestat over the past seven months. But they certainly had not been dating for seven months straight. As a couple, they were incapable of spending more than a few weeks at a time as each other’s boyfriends before the relationship imploded.

****

Lestat and Louis do not agree about when their relationship started. Louis thinks it was this year, in the middle of October when he had showed up to one of Lestat’s band’s shows with his friends only to realize that many of Lestat’s songs were about him.

Lestat disagrees. He insists it’s earlier; starting in April of the previous year. That was when Louis had admitted to Lestat that though he was interested in boys, that he’d never so much as kissed one and Lestat had given him some first-hand experience.

They had continued on like that for nearly two months, forging a tenuous friendship with each other while Lestat would kiss Louis and sometimes let his hands wander all while claiming it was “practice.”

“Really Louis,” Lestat would say later. “How dim are you that for nearly two months I regularly had my tongue down your throat and you still thought we were just friends?”

In Louis’ defence, Lestat hardly treated him as a boyfriend. They didn’t have dates so much as make out sessions in Lestat’s basement while Family Guy played, unwatched in the background. How was he to know that Lestat apparently had an endless, fiery yearning for him when his idea of romance was playing Bon Jovi while they were dry-humping?

The last time they were together like this was in June, the day after school had ended.

“What are you doing for the summer?” Lestat had asked.

Louis rolled his eyes. He’d mentioned his plans to Lestat several times now. “I’m going on that cultural excursion to France with the theatre kids. They’re doing a play, I’m doing the lighting.”

Lestat laughed. “Wow, six weeks with the theatre kids, huh? I didn’t think you’d be into that.”

Louis shrugged. “I admire their artistry.”

“You admire the fact that they can speak in a room that holds more than ten people at a time,” Lestat had teased and then climbed onto Louis’ lap.

That was the last time they had spoken before Louis left for France.

****

In France, Louis met Armand. He’d been aware of the boy but they hadn’t run in the same circles. However, Armand apparently had taken a liking to Louis and used the trip to France to get acquainted. Instead of staying in his room and reading, Armand dragged Louis out in the evenings to experience Paris at dusk. He knew all the clubs and bars that didn’t ask for ID and even took Louis on an exploration of the city’s catacombs which Armand was fascinated by and Louis, quite disturbed.

Louis was not so dense as to be unaware that Armand was flirting with him. He allowed it to happen, encouraged it even. Armand was beautiful and exciting. Besides, now that Louis had had sufficient practice with Lestat, he was quite eager to have a real relationship with someone. It was easy for that someone to be Armand. Armand, after all, had made his interest in Louis quite blatant.

****

There had been a party the night after Louis and the drama kids returned from France. Lestat, while not technically being a drama kid was certainly dramatic enough to probably be in attendance. Louis thought nothing of Lestat’s likely presence.

That was why when Lestat made his customary fashionably late entrance to the party, Louis had Armand seated comfortably in his lap in full view of the door.

Lestat, who had been greeting everyone and monopolizing attention stopped in his tracks at the sight of Louis and Armand. He did an almost comically large double-take and the easy, charismatic smile slipped off his face to be replaced by a look of rage.

“What the fuck, Louis?” He asked.

“Nice to see you, Lestat,” said Armand as he relaxed further into Louis’ hold with a smirk.

Lestat snapped. Loud enough for the whole party to hear, he called Louis a cheating scumbag and Armand a home-wrecker. Louis, both uncomfortable and confused kept repeating the same defence, how could Armand be a home-wrecker if he and Lestat were neither married nor had children? And more importantly, how could he have been cheating if he hadn’t even known he and Lestat were together?

“And you think that’s an excuse do you?” Lestat had sneered. “You get to cheat on me just because you didn’t know we were together?”

“Yes?” said Louis.

Lestat let out a genuine roar of anger and stomped towards the front door.

“I don’t ever want to speak to either of you again. Goodbye forever!” he said and slammed the door.

Louis hadn’t stayed at the party long after Lestat had made his dramatic entrance and subsequent exit. After Lestat left, Armand had disappeared into the crowd leaving Louis alone and thoroughly uncomfortable. The final nail in the coffin was when a girl came up to him asking if it was alright if she used he and Lestat’s argument as inspiration for a one-act play she was writing. Louis left without answering her.

After that fiasco, Louis didn't see Lestat for the remainder of the summer. When school started back up in September however, it became impossible not to see Lestat. Louis and Lestat ended up sharing two classes in addition to a similar group of friends. Despite this, Lestat ignored him, not even acknowledging his presence unless he had to.

****

Armand broke up with Louis their second week back at school.

“I don’t think this is working out,” Armand had said by way of greeting. They were in their customary spot under the far bleachers.

“Um,” said Louis.

“It’s just… You’re sort of boring?” Armand continued. “Also, have you seen the new history teacher?”

“Mr. De Romanus?”

“Marius,” Armand said dreamily. “I’m in his class and there’s a real connection between the two of us.”

“Oh,” said Louis.

Armand smiled at him. “I knew you’d understand. So, what do you say, still friends?”

“Uh, sure?”

Armand’s smile widened. “I’m so glad. Hey, now that we’ve broken up, you could get back together with Lestat.”

Louis almost laughed. “Lestat hates me.”

Armand gave him an incredulous look. “You don’t really believe that do you? He totally loves you.”

“He hasn’t even spoken to me in months!”

Armand shrugged. “Holding grudges is Lestat’s way of showing that he still cares. The fact that he’s still upset about you cheating on him-”

“I did _not_ cheat on him,” Louis interrupted.

“-Means that he still has feelings for you,” Armand continued. “Plus, he’s always gazing at you sadly when you’re not looking. Haven’t you noticed?”

Louis had not. And he told Armand as much. “Even if Lestat still likes me-”

“ _Loves_ you,” Armand corrected.

“Why would I get back with him?” Louis asked, sidestepping Armand’s use of the L-word.

Armand shrugged. “Why wouldn’t you? He loves you, he’s hot and he’s a good kisser.”

Louis frowned at him. “How do you know he’s a good kisser?

Armand changed the subject. “So now that we’re friends, what do you think is the best way to go about seducing a teacher?”

****

Louis couldn’t help but look at Lestat differently after his conversation with Armand. Lestat, for his part, wasn’t treating Louis any differently. But Louis did start to notice that Armand was right. Several times Louis had looked over and caught Lestat staring at him. Each time Lestat noticed Louis looking, he would turn away, glare or offer up a rude hand gesture. So Louis stopped trying to catch him in the act. Instead, when he saw in his periphery that Lestat was looking in his direction, he continued on as normal and waited for the weight of Lestat’s eyes on him to disappear. If not interrupted, Louis would feel Lestat’s gaze on him for minutes at a time.

****

As they entered October, Louis and Lestat’s relationship thawed slightly. Lestat no longer went elsewhere at lunch if Louis is sitting with their friends. And they could now make three sentences of perfectly polite small talk with one another.

It was good to talk to Lestat again. Louis hadn’t realized exactly how much he’d missed him. On the other hand, Louis keeps remembering what Armand said; that Lestat holding a grudge meant he still cared for Louis. Maybe this newer, civil Lestat meant that he’d gotten over any feelings he had? Louis tried not to think too hard about that. He also tried not to think too hard about why he finds the idea of Lestat not caring about him so upsetting.

Then, in the second week of October, David had cornered him after class and thrust a flyer for one of Lestat’s rock shows into Louis’ hands.

“Be there,” David demanded.

“I uh, I don’t know if Lestat would like to see me there,” Louis said hesitantly.

David rolled his eyes. “Show up anyway. He needs the support. The bigger crowd Lestat gets, the more likely it is they’ll give him another gig. Maybe even one that pays.”

So Louis went.

Lestat’s band was playing in a dingy basement in the warehouse district. Louis sat near the back, hoping that Lestat won’t see him.

Honestly, Lestat’s band kinda sucked. None of them were particularly good at playing their instruments. Lestat was the exception. Unlike the other members of his band, Lestat had stage presence. From the very moment he stepped onstage wearing tight leather pants and too much eyeliner, he was magnetic. When Lestat started to sing, everything else disappeared. The uncomfortable chairs, the drummer who wasn’t on beat and the stale chill of the air all vanished. All Louis could focus on was Lestat.

What surprised Louis the most were the lyrics. David had told him that Lestat was the band’s songwriter and Louis didn’t know how exactly he expected that to turn out but it wasn’t _this_. Lestat crooned moodily about a green-eyed beauty who’d ensnared his heart, a heartbreak that froze him like a world without sun and kissing someone who felt like being caught in a riptide. Also vampires. There were a lot of songs about vampires for some reason.

For the first few songs, Louis remained in denial about who Lestat was singing about. Lots of people had green eyes and some of the songs didn’t even mention whether or not Lestat was singing about a guy. However, the main thing that stops Louis from clueing in was that he couldn’t believe that their previous “relationship” had inspired such feelings. The romance, passion and heartbreak didn’t match Louis’ impression of what had transpired between them that spring.

Then, Lestat played a song that spoke of how his lover had left him and was exploring Paris with another man. That was a little too specific. Briefly, Louis tried to convince himself that it’s Armand who Lestat was singing about. Surely Armand, who looks like a painting come to life was the one who deserves such agonizingly beautiful declarations of love. But then, Lestat’s eyes met his. It’s as if the other 18 people in the room disappeared and Lestat was singing his feelings for Louis alone. Shit. Lestat _loved_ him.

When the show finished, Louis immediately ran “backstage.” Really, it was just a curtain that sectioned off part of the room. The only person there was the bassist. She looked Louis up and down with a knowing smirk.

“The others are out there, smoking a joint,” she said, pointing to a door on her left. Louis thanked her and rushed out the door.

And there Lestat was. Leaning against a wall, looking impossibly cool in his leather pants and eyeliner with a joint dangling from his lips. It fell from his mouth and hit the pavement when Lestat caught site of Louis.

“You came,” Lestat said, looking awed.

“I did,” Louis agreed.

“Those songs were about you, you know,” Lestat told him.

“I know,” said Louis.

And then they were kissing. The pot had made Lestat’s mouth taste awful and he was sweaty after his performance but Louis did not care. Because Lestat had him pinned against the brick wall and his hands were threaded in Louis’ hair and it was perfect.

****

They broke up three days later because Louis wouldn't tell Lestat that he loves him.

“I won’t lie to you,” Louis had argued.

“You shouldn’t have to!” Lestat snapped. I mean, I love you so-”

“So therefore I should love you back?” Louis interrupted.

“Yes!” shouted Lestat.

“I’m sorry, Lestat. I really am, but it’s just too soon for that.”

“It’s been six months since out first kiss, Louis. That’s like, an eternity.”

“I didn’t even know we were dating, Lestat. This relationship is a lot newer to me then that.”

“ _Was_ a lot newer to you,” Lestat corrected. “We’re through!”

****

Armand had laughed for several minutes straight when Louis told him what happened the following day.

“What do I do, Armand?” Louis asked. “And stop laughing, it’s not funny!”

“Oh, it absolutely is,” Armand insisted. “As for what you should do, you should be able to figure that out. What’s Lestat’s favourite thing?”

“He does have that bizarre fascination with Wal-Mart. Is that it?”

Armand rolled his eyes. “No, dumbass. Lestat loves drama. So, give him some drama.”

“That’ll never work!” Louis moaned. “I don’t have nearly the flare for dramatics that he does!” He collapsed onto the bleacher and flung a hand over his eyes.

Armand raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh, sure. Look, just think of some ridiculous way to let Lestat know that you wanna hold his hand and suck his cock or whatever. It won’t be hard. He _loves_ you and he wants to be with you. It’s just that he loves drama too and there’s good drama in a breakup.”

And so, at the end of last period, Louis swallowed his pride, shame and desire for his teachers to respect him and climbed up on his desk to announce to the entire class his feelings for Lestat, apologize to him and plead for Lestat to take him back. It’s embarrassing but just like at the concert, when Louis looked at Lestat who was gazing at him adoringly, everything else melted away.

“Please Lestat, come back to me. Let me fall in love with you. Please?” Louis begged. And Lestat smiled and offered Louis his hand to climb down from the desk.

“You are going to fall in love with me,” Lestat told him. It almost sounded like a threat.

“I look forward to it,” said Louis. And they kissed until the still-present chemistry teacher dragged his fingernails down the chalkboard to make them stop.

****

They did stay together until Louis tells Lestat he loves him too. Barely.

Their last class had been canceled so Louis and Lestat were in Louis’ bedroom, fooling around before his parents came home.

Louis was on top of Lestat, kissing him breathless and grinding down on him. “I love you,” he gasped. “Fuck, Lestat, I love you so much.” He kissed Lestat again but Lestat had gone still beneath him.

“Lestat? What is it?”

Lestat glared up at him. “Really, Louis? Now?”

Louis frowned at him. “What?”

“You tell me you love me _now_? While we’re doing _this_?

“You’re mad because I told you I love you while we’re in bed together? You do that all the time!”

“I’m mad because the _first_ time you tell me you love me is while we’re in bed together! Is that what I am to you, Louis? Is that what I’m worth?”

“You told me you loved me for the first time in a back alley while there were two stoned teenagers behind us yelling gaaaaayyyyy!” Louis argued.

“My first love confession to you was in a _song_ ,” Lestat snapped. “Maybe you’d know that if you paid attention. If you cared about me!” He was out of bed by then and reached for his shirt which he’d flung over Louis’ bedside lamp.

Louis’ mom had come home right as Lestat had reached the front door. Louis had followed him out of his room, declaring in variation that he was sorry and that Lestat was being ridiculous. This meant that he heard as Lestat politely greeted Louis’ mother and told her that she has a very lovely home and a very shitty son. Then he left, slamming the door and leaving Louis with his confused and rather displeased mother.

The rest of their relationship followed the same pattern. They’d be together for at most a handful of weeks, have a dramatic falling out, spend awhile avoiding and bitching about each other and then inevitably get back together all over again.

****

Their shortest time spent in the on-again phase of their relationship was less than a day. Louis had waited by Lestat’s locker one Tuesday morning to win him back after their last breakup eight days earlier. He told Lestat that he was sorry and that he missed him and loved him and everything else Lestat needed to hear. Lestat had accepted his apologies and whipped out his phone to change his Facebook relationship status.

But, by dinnertime that night, they were over again. Louis’ last class of the day had been canceled so he went home early. Lestat had been furious that Louis had not been there to meet him and walk him home at the end of the school day. He decided that Louis wasn’t really serious about getting back together after all and that maybe they needed more time apart to “grow” as people.

By Friday, Lestat had apparently decided that Louis had grown enough as a person because Louis found a love letter written by him taped to his locker. It was several pages long and incredibly explicit.

****

The shortest time they’d spent broken up was a lunch hour. Lestat had dumped Louis for failing to pick up on his subtle signals that Louis should buy him lunch. However, just before the bell rang for classes to resume, Lestat had cornered Louis to apologize. He said that even he realized that was a stupid and over-dramatic reason to dump someone. Louis, charmed by this rare moment of self-awareness in Lestat, accepted his apologies and took him back.

They broke up the following Thursday because Louis “betrayed” Lestat by choosing a different lab partner in biology.

****

So far, the longest they’d managed to stay together was six weeks. And two of those weeks almost don’t count as it had been Christmas vacation. Louis had been out of town, visiting family at his racist grandma’s home, an old plantation house that Louis found his family to be far too proud of still owning. Frankly, not seeing Lestat every day helped with their relationship. They talked on the phone every other day or so. Without him physically present, Louis found himself more inclined to find Lestat’s antics and general Lestat-ness charming and funny rather than frustrating.

They broke up three weeks after school resumed. They’d been cuddling in a pillow fort they had built in Louis’ living room. Louis had lamented that with exams coming up, he’d need to spend less time with Lestat as he needed to study.

“Fine,” Lestat snapped, rising suddenly to his feet. His head knocked the cushion acting as a roof which in turn tipped over one of the fort walls. “If I’m such a time-wasting burden to you, maybe we shouldn’t be together at all! It’s clear you have bigger priorities than me, like some stupid number on a piece of paper and your “future career prospects,” Lestat said, emphasizing the last few words with incorrectly used air quotes.

Louis didn’t chase after him when Lestat stormed out. He just stayed lying under a pile of collapsed cushions feeling both relieved by this outcome and guilty for feeling so relieved.

They get back together the day after Louis’ last exam. Louis sent one of those edible fruit bouquets with a detailed apology note. Exams had just finished so he was a bit short on time and brain power to think up a better romantic gesture.

****

It’s split between them who begs who for the other back. Louis honestly does love Lestat and mostly accepts that this dramatic creature is who he’s chosen to date. So Louis will often suck up his pride and offer poetry, flowers, love notes and whatever words Lestat needs to soothe his ego and assure himself that their courtship is exactly as dramatic as he clearly wants it to be.

Sometimes though, Louis doesn’t have to. Lestat also loves the drama of a love confession and he enjoys being the one to provide romantic gestures as much as being the one to receive them. These gestures are almost always very public, deeply embarrassing but also impressively creative. Sometimes Louis thinks Lestat breaks up with him just because he’s had a good idea for a make-up gesture.

On some occasions however, Louis is just done with Lestat. The amount of fights they have, the unpredictability of his responses and the fact that frankly, Lestat is a bit of a bitch sometimes makes Louis uninterested in being the one to put in the work to get back together again. Even if he does miss Lestat every time they break up.

On these occasions, Lestat will usually cave quickly and offer up a big, romantic gesture of his own. But on these occasions, when he’s genuinely done with Lestat, it takes more than this. Louis ignores the gifts and the gestures until Lestat almost begs him. It’s not the gifts and showmanship that appeal to Louis, but a show of Lestat’s passion that verges on the desperate that Louis cannot ignore. Knowing that despite all of it, Lestat clearly feels this insane, emo, all-consuming love-thing that Louis feels is so heartening and relieving. Louis cannot possibly reject him in such moments.

Lestat has not figured this out at all. He always relies first on ridiculous gestures of the sort that he himself would like Louis to perform in order to win Louis back.

****

It is decidedly less evenly split as to which of them dumps the other more often. Overwhelmingly, it’s Lestat. Lestat has broken up with Louis for more reasons than Louis can count.

Louis, on the other hand only has two reasons as to why he breaks up with Lestat. The first is when he’s has grown tired of Lestat’s dramatics, realizes their personality types might be fundamentally incompatible and genuinely tries extricate himself and his heart from Lestat’s clutches. It never lasts. Louis finds that his heart aches when Lestat’s face falls when Louis dumps him and that Louis feels terrible and lonely and bleak when he and Lestat are apart.

The second reason Louis breaks up with Lestat is because sometimes, Lestat finds someone else to obsess over.

This has happened twice. The first time was in mid-November. Lestat had started noticing the new kid, Tarquin Blackwood. Louis would find Lestat gazing at Tarquin across the caf when they were eating and all of a sudden, Lestat was inviting the kid to hang out with him, Louis, and their group of friends. On some occasions, Lestat even invited Tarquin on what Louis presumed were dates between Lestat and himself.

The final straw was when Lestat didn’t show up for a date they’d had planned for Saturday because he’d gone to Tarquin’s ranch for the weekend.

“If you’re so interested in him, maybe you should date him instead of me!” Louis had shouted into his phone as he stood outside the restaurant he and Lestat were supposed to be brunching at right now.

“Maybe I will!” Lestat retorted. “Maybe I’ll go make out with him right now!” Lestat yelled and then ended the call.

Lestat’s interest in Tarquin lasted about nine days. On the night of the tenth day, Lestat had showed up at Louis’ house, bouquet in hand, throwing rocks at Louis’ window to get his attention.

Despite Lestat’s pleas that Tarquin had made him realize that Louis was the one for him; that Tarquin was not half as beautiful or a quarter as intelligent as Louis; that “my time spent on Blackwood farm was a mistake and I wish it had never happened,” Louis didn’t take him back that night. He was genuinely furious at Lestat.

Ultimately, Louis managed to hold out for about four days before he gave in and took Lestat back.

****

The second time Lestat’s attention wandered led to their longest separation so far.

This time, it was Antoine, the new keyboardist in Lestat’s band. Quicker to figure out what was happening when suddenly Antoine became Lestat’s favourite subject to discuss, Louis had very politely ended things with Lestat, telling him to follow his heart.

“You are as selfless as you are beautiful,” Lestat had said and kissed him on the cheek.

Louis had blushed at his words but mused about how untrue they were. Louis wasn’t selfless, he was just certain. He was not upset about Lestat’s interest in Antoine because he knew it was temporary. After it passed, Lestat would come back to him.

Louis told Lestat as much.

“You’re not nearly as irresistible as you think you are, Louis,” Lestat sneered. “I’m serious about Antoine. Me and him are gonna make it, you’ll see!”

Lestat and Antoine made it 26 days which, Louis admitted, was pretty impressive for Lestat and even more impressive for Antoine, for having put up with Lestat.

Within five minutes of breaking up with Antoine though, Lestat had come to Louis, offering apologies and poetry and begging for Louis back.

“Tell me I was right,” Louis had demanded.

Lestat scoffed, rolled his eyes and tried to laugh it off before Louis’ narrowed eyes made him realize he wasn’t kidding.

“Of course, you were right,” Lestat wheedled, his demeanour changing lightning-fast. “How could I possibly resist you, Louis? Who could possibly compare to you, my love?”

Realizing Lestat was ramping up to saying a bunch of truly sappy, embarrassing shit, Louis cut him off with a kiss.

****

And that’s how their year had gone; an endless cycle of breaking up and making up, usually within the time it takes a jug of milk to expire. Louis recognized this early on. It didn’t bothered him, usually. But as May rolled into June and prom season had started in earnest, Louis had started to worry.

See, it was imperative that he and Lestat went to prom together. It was necessary. Louis would literally die if they didn’t.

Whatever the future of their relationship might be, Louis’ senior year of high school and 18th year of life were all about Lestat. So Louis needed him on his arm when they went to that final blowout. He needed the photos and the memories of being with his gorgeous, ridiculous boyfriend at the most important moment of his young life.

So when Louis realized that prom would likely fall in the off-again phase of their relationship, he knew what he had to do. In order to go to prom with Lestat, he’d have to break up with Lestat.

He genuinely didn’t want to do it. He and Lestat had been going strong for three weeks and so far, there’d been less drama than usual. Usually, Louis would have been thrilled about this. Not this time. He’d hoped to avoid breaking up with Lestat. He’d been hoping maybe Lestat would end the relationship on his own within the timeline Louis had worked out. Of course, this was the one fucking time Lestat refused to make a scene or to find fault in Louis’ behaviour. Trust Lestat to be contrary about everything, even his own basic nature.

And so, in order to keep their relationship timeline on track, Louis would have to do it himself. Louis had thought over their relationship and determined an average time that they were apart as well as the time they were together so he could time the break-up just right; give Lestat time to rage and give him the cold shoulder before inevitably thawing enough that Louis could enact his incredibly elaborate promposal. Then, all they had to do was make it two weeks until prom without breaking up. Louis was certain they could do that. Not because he was so certain in the strength of their relationship, but because that was close enough to prom that even Lestat wouldn’t risk splitting up with him.

Louis was going to attend prom with his boyfriend damn it, even if he had to break up with him to ensure that it happened.

****

The break-up goes terribly. And it’s not exactly like Louis had been expecting it to go well.

Sure, he’d gone over what he was going to say and how he was going to say it. He’d made sure to tell Lestat that he loved him and was devastated by this but that it just made sense; it was the logical thing to do. But Lestat had never been one to be swayed by logic. Lestat had followed Louis’ appeal to logic by yelling about how Louis didn’t trust him or their relationship and that this break-up was selfish manipulation.

“You can’t just end a relationship because it doesn’t suit your schedule, Louis! How do you not see how shitty that is?”

Louis, upset and unable to help himself, reminded Lestat of the time he had broken up with Louis because of an upcoming ski trip that Lestat had apparently been planning for since freshman year.

“I just want to hook up with as many people as I can in one of those outdoor hot tubs. Winter weather, warm water and hot company. It just sounds so _sexy_. You understand, don’t you?” Lestat had said.

“No!” Louis disagreed. “I’m pretty sure having sex in a hot tub gives you like, herpes or something. Also, do you think the water will be changed out or cleaned in between your escapades or is the hot tub just going to become an increasingly opaque bath of teenage bodily fluids?”

“That is disgusting!” Lestat had yelled. “I can’t believe I ever dated such a prudish mood killer as you!

Predictably, bringing up Lestat’s past mistakes had not calmed the situation. Lestat had screamed and then grabbed a nearby song book and thew it at Louis. Then another. Then the music stand it had been sitting on.

As a third book of sheet music whistled by his left ear, Louis decided to retreat. Clearly his presence was not going to put Lestat in a calm state of mind at this point in time.

****

Louis remained completely checked out during his classes that afternoon. He couldn’t stop playing the breakup back in his head. All the things Lestat had yelled at him, all the things Louis wishes he’d said or wished he hadn’t said, all the things that had gone wrong. The worst part— the part which played on near-constant loop as he sat, glassy-eyed at his desk in math class— was a moment when Lestat had turned away to find another music stand to throw at him. Louis had seen Lestat wipe tears from his eyes.

While the teacher droned on about how you can measure a circle using triangles or whatever, Louis marshalled his thoughts away from regrets about the past to plans for the future. Because despite how badly the breakup had gone, Louis is still going to go to prom with Lestat. That’s non-negotiable. Louis was going to need something _huge_ to convince Lestat. Bigger than huge. This wasn’t just a “take me back” romantic gesture, this was a “take me back” gesture _and_ a promposal. Louis knew Lestat would accept nothing less than the most extravagant promposal at the best of times but after such an emotional break-up? Louis wondered if he could dip into his college fund.

****

The thing to pull Louis out of his reverie of increasingly expensive plans to win Lestat back is Lestat himself.

It’s the final period of the day. Louis is paying as little attention to his French teacher as he had to his math teacher. Then, Lestat walks in. this didn’t make sense. Why was he here? Surely the wounds of their lunch hour breakup were still too fresh for Lestat to be the one to come asking for Louis back?

But Lestat seems to be heading towards him, marching purposefully towards the back row of the classroom as their teacher takes Lestat’s interruption as an opportunity to check Pinterest.

It’s strange, Louis thinks. Though Lestat is heading his way, Louis can’t catch his eye. Lestat is instead staring some twenty feet from Louis’ desk. Then, Lestat is right in front of his desk and still, not looking at him. Lestat turns and kept walking right past Louis’ desk towards David’s who sits three seats to the right of Louis. Louis’ heart sinks.

In front of David, Lestat drops to both knees and Louis goes numb. He watches in paralyzed shock as Louis began to speak.

“David Talbot, we’ve been friends for a while and,” Lestat gives a grin that’s both arrogant and somehow charming. “I know you think I’m hot. And you’re right.” The class laughed.

“You know what else?” Lestat continues. “You’re hot too. Like, really hot and I like you a lot so, David Talbot…” he pauses for dramatic effect. “Will you go to prom with me?”

There’s a deafening rush in Louis’ ears. He starts shaking. How could Lestat do this?

“Of course.” David’s response feels like a slap to the face. It wasn’t like Louis had expected David to reject Lestat. Louis knew David was interested in Lestat. But David saying yes robbed Louis of the last shred of hope he’d had.

Louis would not be going to prom with Lestat because Lestat was going with David. For all of Lestat’s flightiness, Louis knew that Lestat wouldn’t back down from this. In front of an entire classroom, Lestat had asked David to prom and so, as his adoring public expected, Lestat would take David to prom.

God, he just needs this day to be over. He needs this day never to have started, for it to be yesterday so that he could do this day over again except better. But he can’t do that. There’s no way to rewind time and ask Lestat to prom in front of a group of people instead of breaking up with him in an empty classroom. He can’t go backwards to a time before Lestat had done something so cruel, had broken his heart in Louis’ French class, all without looking at him. He can’t do any of that.

He also can’t stay in this fucking classroom while the teacher tried to refocus the class’s attention on irregular verbs. So Louis leaves. He dumps his books unceremoniously into his bag and walks out of the class.

The weather doesn’t even have the decency to match his mood. It should have been bleak and rainy as Louis made his way home, heart shattered in a million pieces. Instead, it was clear and sunny. The universe is laughing at him, mocking his pain.

What Louis wants more than anything was to bury himself in the earth and sleep for a century until none of this mattered anymore. Unable to do that, he settles for lying on the floor of his room in the dark, ignoring his mom when she calls him for dinner.

****

The next day is awful. The only good part of it is the handful of seconds between waking and checking his phone. In this brief interval of time, Louis allowed himself, stupidly, to hope. Maybe Lestat realized what he’d done was terrible or maybe he just realized Louis was right. It was foolish really, to hope for either of such impossible things.

The first post Louis sees when he opens Instagram is a photo of Lestat on his knees in front of David’s desk whilst David looks adoringly at him. In the far corner of the photo, Louis sees himself, mouth wide open and eyes narrowed, a truly unattractive mixture of shock and anger on his face.

The post is from David’s account. His caption reads: We’re going to prom!!! <3 <3 <3\. He’s tagged Lestat. There are dozens of likes to the photo as well as to Lestat’s comment: three yellow hearts followed by two of those dancing girl emojis. Never has Louis been so hurt by an Instagram comment, let alone one that didn’t contain any actual words.

At school, it seems like Lestat is trying to avoid him which Louis is thankful for. He sees Lestat and David hanging at David’s locker and later, in the caf. Both times when Lestat sees him, he smoothly interrupts the current conversation and leads David away. While Louis is thankful for Lestat not being so cruel as to shove his new relationship in Louis’ face, each time they leave an insidious part of his brain whispers that they’ve just gone somewhere more private. Maybe even the same secluded corners and empty rooms that Lestat had dragged Louis into in happier days.

****

Lestat continues to avoid Louis for the rest of the week. Probably. It’s a little hard to tell what Lestat is or isn’t doing when Louis himself is aggressively avoiding Lestat. He makes sure trips to his locker are as quick as possible before spending his free time showing up early to his classes. At lunch, he sits under the bleachers closest to the school doors. The other sets of bleachers are home to students getting high or making out but this closest set of bleachers is considered too risky to do such things.

As such, Louis can sit here solitude here and remember that Lestat had liked the risk and had made sure to spend an entire lunch hour fooling around with Louis underneath this very bleacher once.

It had been lucky that it was Mr. De Romanus who had spotted them. He always found displays of affection between students to be endearing rather than something that required detention. Actually, his enthusiasm for young couples was creepy enough to be its own punishment…

Louis’ reverie about whether Mr. De Romanus is nice or creepy (or rather, nice as well as creepy because he’s definitely creepy) is interrupted by Armand. Louis jumps at his sudden, unexpected presence. Armand would be furious if he knew that Louis was considering his current infatuation to be creepy.

For a brief, paranoid moment, Louis wonders if Armand somehow read his thoughts and has come to give Louis a piece of his mind about Louis’ internal opinion on their middle-aged teacher who spends most lunch hours with a lone student and sometimes high fives couples after he’s caught them kissing in the hallway.

“You okay?” Armand asks, softly.

Oh. Not about Mr. De Romanus then. It’s about Lestat. Of course it’s about Lestat.

“No.”

Armand sighs and wraps Louis into a hug. It’s nice until Armand shifts and his chin begins to dig directly into Louis’ sternum. Why on earth was this boy so short?

“Can I join you for lunch?” Armand asks, after he’s released Louis.

Louis shrugs. “Free country or whatever.”

Delicately, Armand places his jacket on the cold ground and sits atop it. Louis joins him.

“Lestat’s an asshole,” Armand tells him.

“I am more than aware.”

Armand looks sadly at Louis. “Yeah, you certainly are. Still, I don’t think anyone could’ve predicted this shit he pulled with David.”

Louis sighs deeply. “I fucked up.”

“A little,” Armand agrees. “It was risky breaking up with Lestat in order to ensure you’d be a couple come prom night. But this overreaction of Lestat’s is really shitty.”

Louis says nothing.

“What do you plan to do about prom now?” Armand continues.

Louis shrugs. “Not go, I guess. I don’t exactly want to see Lestat win prom king and then slow dance with David.”

“Well that’s stupid,” Armand tells him. “You’re just letting him win if you do that. Fight back, Louis! Be as petty as he is! Show up and have a great time in spite of Lestat.” A beat. “Better yet, show up with a date of your own. Lestat would hate that.”

Louis laughs at this. It would be something to see Lestat’s face if Louis showed up smiling with someone else on his arm.

“I don’t know, Armand. I can’t imagine dating anyone else right now, let alone taking them to prom. I still love him, you know?”

Armand looks at him like he’s an abandoned puppy. “I do know. I’m not saying you should start dating someone else. Maybe you go with a friend? Maybe a friend who Lestat happens to not fucking stand?

Louis sees where this is going. “What are you getting at, Armand?”

“Well, unfortunately, it would be, "not only unethical but against school rules,” to go with the person I want to go with.” Armand says, bitterly. “But I certainly don’t want to show up alone to prom. I’d rather have a combination of friend and eye-candy to enjoy the evening with.”

“Plus, it would drive Lestat absolutely nuts if we went together,” Louis adds.

“A major bonus to this plan,” Armand agrees. “Lestat deserves to be driven a little nuts.”

“I don’t know why you antagonize him like this,” Louis says. “Does it ever end well?”

Armand shrugs. “No one’s died yet. “But what do you think? Me and you, going to prom together? Just as friends?”

Louis frowns. This was so far from his plans for prom. He didn’t expect to be going with Armand and he certainly didn’t expect to be asked to prom under the bleachers by someone admitting to him that he was not their first choice.

Then, the memory of Lestat’s stupid promposal to David flashes through his head.

“Fuck it, yeah. Let’s go to prom.”

Armand smiles and kisses his cheek. “Wonderful! Just so you know, if you expect me to put out afterwards, you’ll be disappointed. Probably.”

Louis laughs. Here, with Armand, is the first time he’s so much as smiled since he and Lestat had broken up. “Only probably?”

Armand grins. “We’ll see how the night goes.”

****

Armand has clearly taken the rest of the day to share the information that he and Louis are going to prom because at the end of the day, Louis opens his locker to grab his backpack only to close it and and find Lestat’s red, angry face inches from his own.

“Armand?!” Lestat yells. Louis winces. Lestat is very close and very loud.

“What about him?” Louis asks, coolly.

“Armand?!” Lestat repeats, gesturing angrily.

“Yes, I’m going to prom with Armand,” Louis replies. “Is that a problem?”

“Yes it’s a problem. The problem is that it’s Armand!”

“In case you’ve forgotten, we’re broken up. So you don’t get any say in who I choose to spend time with or go to official school events with.”

Lestat glares daggers at him. “Are you trying to hurt me?”

“I am a little bit, yes,” Louis says. “But that’s not the only reason I’m doing this. I want to go to prom and I want to have a good time there. I think I can do that if I go with Armand. However, I won’t pretend like some of that good time won’t be because seeing me with Armand will infuriate you.”

Lestat actually snarls. “What on earth have I done to make you be so vindictive to me, Louis? You’re the one who ended it!”

“I ended it because I wanted it to be you I went to prom with!” Louis explodes. “And how can you talk of me being vindictive after what you pulled with David, Lestat?”

“That was different!”

“Yeah, it was different. You chose to hurt me in front of a room of people. And you chose to hurt me first.”

“But you don’t hate David,” Lestat argues.

“Do you think that makes it better?” Louis asks. “The fact that I can’t even hate David? I can’t even blame him! I know he likes you. He’s someone who is interesting and attractive and likes you enough to put up with you! That makes it worse, Lestat. It makes it so much worse.”

The anger on Lestat’s face drains. In its place is a pained look which is almost worse. “Louis, David’s not, David and I—“

“I don’t want to hear about you and David, Lestat. Okay?” Louis snaps. “See you at prom.”

Louis storms away without looking back.

****

Louis continues to do his best to avoid Lestat. However, this becomes increasingly difficult as prom draws nearer. Everywhere Louis turns, Lestat’s face beams at him. Campaigning for prom king and queen has begun in earnest. Lestat’s campaign tactic is apparently to wallpaper the school with posters of his own face.

Ridiculous, really. Lestat doesn’t need to try half this hard to win prom king. He’s a shoo-in.

Indeed, when the day of the election comes, Louis stares hard at his ballot, trying to place names to faces for the rest of the nominees for prom king and trying to imagine that person being crowned. It’s pointless. Louis can see no one but Lestat as king. If Lestat is qualified for one position, it’s this.

So Louis votes for Lestat and smiles sadly, thinking how happy Lestat will be when he wins.

****

The rest of the year passes without incident but also without joy for Louis. Exams are drawing near so Louis puts his focus into studying, using it as an excuse when his parents ask why he’s so glum and why he isn’t seeing his friends as much.

Armand will drag him out occasionally to attends the theatre kids’ performances. Louis always assures Armand and the rest of them that the low turn-out is just because their work is ahead of the curve and the unenthusiastic applause is from an audience that just doesn’t get their brilliance.

It’s fine, but as much as he used to complain about the loudness, the creepy venues and Lestat putting so much of their personal life into his songs, Louis still finds himself longing to go to Lestat’s rock shows instead. They were shorter, much less pretentious and at the end of each show, Lestat— high on the thrill of performing and the adoration of the crowd— would come to Louis and kiss him passionately in front of everyone before he went to meet his adoring public.

****

By the last few days of term, things had thawed enough between he and Lestat that they are capable of sitting at the same lunch table surrounded by their mutual friends.

Lestat even laughed at one of Louis’ comments the other day. Armand had been complaining about how he had such an old soul. Louis brought up the irony of how Armand claims to be mentally decades, if not centuries, older than he is when physically, he looks years younger than he actually is. Armand had not been pleased by this comment nor by Lestat’s resulting laugh. He’d stormed off muttering about how juvenile his friends acted and how he needed more mature company.

“That’s code for he’s gonna go to Mr. De Romanus saying he made a mistake on his last test and if there’s anything he can do to make it up, right?” Lestat asked. Louis snickered. He should probably defend Armand but really, this crush of his is ridiculous and Louis is a little sick of hearing about their as-yet unconsummated, star-crossed love affair.

“No, he gave up on that one earlier in the year. I think his current strategy is trying to get De Romanus to draw him nude,” Louis said.

Lestat threw back his head in laughter and Louis smiled in spite of himself. Lestat was beautiful when he laughed. He was beautiful all the time, really.

Lestat caught him staring. To Louis’ surprise, he didn’t immediately glance away and engage someone else in conversation, nor make some pointed remark. Instead, he met Louis’ gaze and offered him a smile of impossible fondness. It made Louis crazy. It made him want to grab Lestat’s hand under the lunch table or do something even more blatant. Maybe grab him by the collar of his ridiculous leather jacket (It was June, for god’s sake) and haul him into a kiss.

David, sitting to Lestat’s right, lay a hand on Lestat’s arm. Lestat had jumped in surprise. The moment was broken. Lestat turned to join in David’s conversation and Louis collected his things waited outside his next class for the remainder of the lunch hour.

****

Exam week comes and goes with the usual student stress, breakdowns and lack of sleep. Louis actually feels confident at the end of his. He’d actually studied in his time shut up in his room avoiding the world.He laughs humourlessly at the thought that his broken heart might be the reason he gets into his first choice of university.

Now that the looming stress of exam week is off, the looming stress of prom begins in earnest. Those who don’t have dates yet are getting desperate. Outside his chemistry exam, Louis saw a classmate of his ask a girl to go to prom with him. Upon her rejection, he introduced himself to another girl just a few feet away and asked her the exact same thing.

Armand throws an end of exams party which he’s strong-armed Louis into attending. It’s not Louis’ first idea of a good time, but it’s also not the worst of Armand’s parties that he’s attended.

Bianca, head of the prom committee, has been explaining in detail all the prom committee drama Louis had apparently missed out on. She confides in Louis that they’ve gone way over budget only for many of their plans not to pan out at all. They also lost a member of the committee because her and Bianca had an argument that started because they’d bought the same prom dress.

“Do you think we all get so into prom because we need to focus our energy and nerves into something small and comparatively meaningless when faced with the uncertain and uncharted waters of adulthood where we now find ourselves?” Louis asks.

Bianca looks at him narrowly, slams back the rest of her drink and walks away from Louis without another word.

****

On prom night, Louis and Armand go through the motions.

Louis puts on his tux and waits in the living room for Armand to come pick him up.

Upon Armand’s arrival, Louis dutifully lets his parents take photo after photo of them together because Louis’ mom keeps telling him his smile doesn’t look genuine enough.

Once that’s done, Louis’ dad pulls him aside to lecture him about drinking and then awkwardly thrusts a condom into his hands saying just because he’s finished high school doesn’t mean he’s ready to be a father. Louis stares at him for a long time before and deciding he’s not going to say any of the many number of things he could say to that.

Finally, his parents stop fussing and he and Armand climb into the back seat of the taxi they’d ordered. Now that his parents are out of sight, Louis lets his fake smile fall away.

“Can you at least _try_ to have fun tonight?” Armand asks.

Louis sighs dramatically and stares out the window.

****

Lestat used to wax poetic to Louis of how magical prom night would be. Frankly, the reality doesn’t measure up to the version Lestat had spun which seemed straight out of _The Great Gatsby_ or something. Instead, Louis and Armand walk arm-in-arm into a community centre gymnasium with balloons on the walls, a congratulations banner and a DJ who’s just the drummer from Lestat’s band selecting songs off an iPod classic.

Lestat is, of course, the centre of attention. He’s literally waltzing around the floor, first with Merrick Mayfair then, after a polite kiss to the back of her hand, changes partners and allows himself to be led around with equal grace by Thorne, the captain of the football team. He’s dazzling to watch. His tuxedo of course fits impeccably, his dance moves are graceful and precise, and his smile is dazzling. He’d look more at home in some sort of Jane Austen ball or a fancy charity gala than here in this draughty gymnasium.

“Honestly,” Armand says as he steers Louis by the arm away to a table in the corner where some of the drama kids are playing poker. “The votes for prom king are already in. He can stop trying so hard.”

Silently, Louis disagrees. This isn’t Lestat campaigning or acting. This is just Lestat being Lestat.

Louis adopts a position of observation at the table as the drama kids continue their poker game. The stakes of the game are allegedly dares but it’s increasingly transparent that they’re just promises of increasingly elaborate sexual favours.

“You’re not going to play?” Louis asks Armand who, like him, is merely observing the proceedings. Louis would have thought that the opportunity to get a blowjob in a graveyard under a full moon or be the third in a threesome between Estelle and Celeste (who are apparently a couple and not sisters as Louis had spent most of the year assuming they were) would be stakes that would entice Armand.

Armand sighs. “No. I’m afraid I wouldn’t be much fun. All these things that I could promise to the winner I have instead promised to someone else.” Armand trails off and stares wistfully into the distance.

“I don’t know why you’re being coy,” Celeste says. “We all know you’re talking about your crush on Mr. De Romanus. You do it all the time.”

Armand’s eyes gaze goes from soft to pointed as he rounds on Celeste. “Fine,” he snaps. “I will be blunt, then. I will not participate in your childish game of sexual favours as I have promised Marius that only his or my own hands would touch this body.”

“Did he ask that of you?” Louis asks, surprised. That’s definitely not an okay thing to ask a student to do. Besides, Louis always got the vibe that Mr. De Romanus didn’t have conventional ideals of fidelity or monogamy. 

“No. Such a thing would be inappropriate to request. It is a gift I offered him freely.”

“Well, my birthday’s coming up,” Estelle says. “And if you’re wondering, I’d prefer theatre tickets or a book as a gift.”

Armand’s retort is cut off when he notices that Mr. De Romanus himself has just walked in. Apparently, he’s offered to chaperon the dance. Unsurprising, really. At the sight of him, Armand’s face slips back into its dreamy countenance.

“Well, if you will all excuse me,” Armand says, as he smoothes his suit jacket. “I believe there are others who would enjoy the gift of my company more thoroughly.” He grins and curses them all in Latin because Armand is Like That. Then, he leaves Louis alone to go flirt with a man who is technically, no longer his teacher.

Without Armand there as a buffer, Louis grows increasingly disinterested and uncomfortable watching the theatre kids use poker as a way to stumble towards awkward sexual experiences. As such, he excuses himself to the bathroom, planning to find a less weird group of peers to sit with as he watches Lestat be crowned prom king.

****

Standing in the dirty, florescent-lit community centre bathroom and seeing himself in the dirty, cracked mirror in his tailored tuxedo is an almost surreal experience. Why had he come again? What on earth did he gain from watching his ex-boyfriend enjoy with someone else what should have been their night? He should just leave.

The bathroom door swings open.It’s Lestat.

“Hi,” Lestat says, cautiously.

Louis nods at him.

“So, this is awkward…” Lestat offers.

“Yeah. I shouldn’t have come,” Louis agrees. “I knew it was gonna be this way.”

“Oh!” Lestat says in surprise. “You’re talking about the general event! I just meant it was awkward that I saw Armand and Mr. De Romanus kissing in the parking lot.”

“I knew that would probably happen,” Louis assures him.

“You _knew_ he was going to ditch you for a teacher? I thought all of his talk was just some weird joke!” Lestat exclaims. “But aren’t you-?”

“Dating?” Louis suggests. “No, we’re just friends. Armand’s pretty set on Mr. De Romanus right now. He even pledged his chastity to him or something.” Lestat snorts.

“Besides, I didn’t really have an interest in dating anyone else,” Louis says.

“Then why on earth did you agree to go to prom with him?” Lestat asks.

“Because I knew it would piss you off!” Louis snaps. “And it did.”

“You’re the one who broke up with me, Louis!” Lestat bellows.

“And you’re the one who came into my class that day just to rub in my face exactly how much I wasn’t going to prom with you,” Louis bites back.

Lestat doesn’t respond as Louis expects. He doesn’t snap back, offering some biting words that will cut Louis to shreds. Instead, he sags against the wall and to Louis’ astonishment says, “I’m sorry.”

“You’re what?” Louis asks.

“I’m sorry,” Lestat repeats. “That was pretty low. I was furious at you and I knew it would hurt you if I asked someone else.”

“It did,” Louis says. “All I wanted was to go to prom with you, you know. I had the most ridiculous promposal planned. There were live birds involved.”

“Doves?” Lestat asks, looking up.

“Ravens.”

Lestat grins. “Edgy,” he says. Then, his face falls. “It’s not right, being apart at prom.”

“I know,” Louis agrees. “That’s what I was trying to avoid.”

“By breaking up with me?”

“Stupid, wasn’t it?” Louis asks. “I just thought, there’s no way we were gonna be able to stay together until prom. And, I mean, I was right about that. I was just wrong on how long it would take you to forgive me.”

“And how far I would go to hurt you,” Lestat adds. “God, I’m such an asshole aren’t I?”

“Yes.” Louis agrees. “You are. It’s very difficult to love you sometimes.”

Lestat begins to cry. It’s not a pretty cry either, not the single tear for effect that Louis knows Lestat has taught himself to do. Instead, the tears fall thick and fast and Lestat’s face turns red.

“Don’t cry,” Louis begs. “You can’t. They’ll be announcing prom king and queen in just a few minutes!”

“I can’t go out there looking like this!” Lestat cries, tears still falling down his cheeks.

“Here,” Louis says. He grabs some paper towels and wets them with cold water.

“Press this against your face,” he says, offering Lestat the paper towel.” It’ll help with the swelling. And you’ve got concealer right? For the redness?”

“Duh,” Lestat responds.

“Okay, well, other than that, I think the best thing to do is take some deep breaths and calm down.”

Lestat does as instructed. Somewhere in the proceedings, Louis moves over to him and starts rubbing his back.

“Where’s David?” Louis asks. “Won’t he get terribly jealous if he sees us like this?”

Lestat snorts. “I don’t want to think too hard about the specifics of it, but I think David is wherever Armand and Mr. De Romanus are.

“What?” Louis asks, too loud in the empty, echoing bathroom.

“Yeah. I lost track of David when I was dancing with Khayman. When I went looking for him, I found him in the parking lot, watching Armand and Mr. De Romanus make out. He wasn’t exactly hiding himself either. They definitely knew he was watching.”

“Armand would probably find that hot,” Louis says.

“Armand?” Lestat asks. “What about Mr. De Romanus? He’s absolutely going to watch Armand and David together. He’s always been way too into seeing the students make out.”

“You’re right,” Louis agrees. “I don’t want to think too hard about the specifics of this.” Lestat laughs.

Louis, however, doesn’t see what’s funny about the situation. “How could David do this to you though? I thought he was totally into you?”

“He is,” Lestat assures. “David’s into a lot of people. Me, Armand, Mr. De Romanus, you.”

“Me?” Louis exclaims.

“Oh my god, Louis. It’s like you don’t listen every time I tell you you’re hot. Of course he’s into you! He thinks you’re deep and mysterious.”

“And I’m sure you told him I’m just depressed and pretentious.”

“Nah.” Lestat says. “I agreed with him. Vehemently. It’s possible I might have talked about you a little too much after our break up.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. It’s sort of hard to be mad at him for taking off with two other people when I spent most of our alone time together telling stories about you.”

“Oh,” Louis says again. He doesn’t know what else to say to this.

It’s silent for a few minutes, the only sounds being Lestat’s rhythmic breathing and the hum of the florescent lights.

Louis breaks the silence. “Three minutes before you should get back.”

Lestat nods. “Okay,” he says and gets up and walks to the sink. “Okay,” he says again as he digs a small tube of concealer out of a pocket on the inside of his jacket.

Louis watches as Lestat applies concealer, taking his face back to near its usual state of perfection. His eyes remain a little puffy and overly bright but he is— as he always is— the most beautiful thing Louis has ever seen.

“How do I look?” Lestat asks.

“Ready to be crowned king,” Louis assures.

Lestat makes a small grimace. “I’d prefer prince, you know. King just sounds so old and not fun. Prince just sounds sexier, don’t you think?”

Louis smiles. “Sure. Now go out there and win that crown, prom prince.”

Lestat’s smile is heartbreaking. He crosses to the door and is about to walk through it, leaving Louis alone in this shitty bathroom when he stops and looks back.

“Louis,” he says. “Was it really very difficult to love me?”

Louis sighs. “No, Lestat. Loving you comes easily to me. Too easy, probably. I couldn’t stop loving you if I tried. And I have. It’s just that sometimes, it also really hurts.”

Lestat says nothing. They stare at each other for a long moment. “You should go,” Louis finally says. “If you don’t hurry up, you’ll miss your own coronation.

“Yeah,” Lestat says. “Yeah, you’re right. Are you going to come watch?” he asks, hopefully.

“Does it matter to you?” Louis asks.

“Yes. I want you to. Will you?”

“Yes. I’ll come watch. Just give me a moment won’t you?” Louis can do this. Louis can watch Lestat get everything he wants and be happy for him. He just needs a minute alone to rally himself.

“Sure,” Lestat says. “Just, don’t take too long. You’ll miss my crowning.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Louis assures him.

Louis takes a few minutes to compose himself by listing off every song The Cure ever did from memory before making his way back to the gymnasium.

He intentionally bypasses the drama kids on his return. Instead, he takes a spare seat at a table directly in front of the makeshift stage.

“Do we know you?” One of the kids at the table asks.

“No,” Louis says. The table is filled with quiet, unremarkable kids. Louis thinks that maybe, had he not met Lestat and later Armand, he would know such drama-free people. He would sit here among stable, bland friends and discuss what drama had happened on some TV show because their own lives lacked any conflict worth talking about.

And as he has that thought, he felt a rush of affection for Lestat, Armand and all the various hangers-on to either or both of them. They’re often strange and ridiculous and drum up far too much drama, but Louis realizes he loves it. As Lestat would put it, maybe Louis is himself, “a slut for the drama.”

His revelation is cut short by the tinny ring of a microphone being plugged in. The school’s principal has gotten up to the main stage and has started speaking. Louis hardly listens. It’s generic sentiments about their bright futures and working hard or something.

Behind the principal sit the prom king and queen nominees. Lestat is sitting slightly left of centre, bathed in the spotlight but not blocked by the principal from most angles. He looks carelessly handsome— despite the fact that everything from his positioning on the stage to the sprawl of his legs has probably been calculated.

Lestat catches his eye. Louis expects him to turn away or maybe make some stupid face but Lestat just grins and winks. Louis hopes Lestat can’t see his blush at this distance.

“And now,” the principal proclaims. “Your nominees for prom king!”

Louis applauds politely as the other nominees are read out. When Lestat’s name is read, without even thinking, he applauds passionately and whistles.

“And the winner is…” The principal pauses for dramatic effect. And even though Louis knows with certainty that Lestat’s name will be the one read out, he feels his heart race with nerves.

“Lestat de Lioncourt!” The principal booms.

Louis is on his feet applauding before he even realizes what he’s doing. Onstage, Lestat is all gracious smiles and charm, bowing to allow himself to be crowned with some dollar store piece of plastic.

Lestat moves to the side of the stage and waits as the principal reads out the nominations for prom queen.

Mona Mayfair wins prom queen and Louis applauds politely. He watches as Lestat says a few words to the principal with a charming smile and is allowed the honour of placing the plastic tiara on Mona’s head. She giggles at the pageantry Lestat puts into the act and flushes when he kisses her hand.

Then, it’s time for Lestat and Mona, the newly crowned king and queen to open the dance floor.

Lestat sweeps Mona around the floor in a flawless waltz. The dance classes he’d taken have clearly paid off. Around them, other couples begin to take to the floor, their slow-dances looking basic and almost embarrassing when compared to Mona and Lestat’s waltz.

Louis is going to cut in, he decides. He’s going to get on the dance floor and take Mona’s place in Lestat’s arms. Lestat would be charmed by that right? By his passion and conviction? Maybe not. Maybe he’ll be annoyed that Louis ruined his moment. Maybe that moment in the bathroom didn’t mean Lestat had forgiven him. Maybe—

Someone beats him to it. Tarquin Blackwood has crossed the dance floor and tapped Lestat on the shoulder.

“May I cut in?” Louis hears him ask, smiling at Mona. And Lestat, playing the perfect gentleman, cedes his place to Tarquin with a bow.

There is no debate in Louis’ mind now. There’s no time for it. As soon as Tarquin has whisked Mona away, Louis makes a beeline for Lestat and takes Mona’s place in Lestat’s arms.

“May I have this dance?” he asks, heart racing.

Lestat beams at him. “You may.”

Lestat does not lead him in an elaborate waltz like he did Mona. Instead he pulls Louis close to him and places his hands securely around his waist. Like so many other couples, they’re not dancing so much as awkwardly swaying; too close together to move their feet with much grace.

Behind them, Louis vaguely hears Celeste shouting at them to make room for Jesus. He couldn’t care less. This is where he belongs, secure in Lestat’s arms in the middle of the dance floor on prom night. It’s the exact moment he’d wanted badly enough to break up with his perfect, beautiful, ridiculous boyfriend for.

Louis and Lestat stay like that, wrapped in each other’s arms for who knows how many songs. The music starts to pick up tempo again and around them, their classmates have mostly separated from their slow dance embraces to grind on each other. Still, Lestat and Louis maintain their spot in the middle of the floor, pressed so close together they can do little more than sway.

“What happens after this?” Lestat asks, suddenly.

“That’s your call, I guess," Louis says. “I was rather hoping you’d take me back but if you need some sort of grand romantic gesture, I can have something arranged by Wednesday.

Lestat chuckles. “I didn’t mean quite so long term. Of course you’re mine again. When have I ever needed grand, romantic gestures? Your love is all I ever wanted.”

Louis bites his tongue. Were this any other situation, he would have had quite a lot to say about Lestat’s declaration. But he doesn’t want to ruin this moment nor break their previous standing record for the shortest time between making up and breaking up.

“I just meant that prom’s drawing to an end. Where do you want to go after?” Lestat continues.

“Oh,” Louis says. “I hadn’t really thought about it. I was sort of just planning to go home and break into my parents’ liquor cabinet until I felt better about not going to prom with you.” Lestat’s arms tighten around his waist.

“Before… everything, I had planned to book us a room at that fancy hotel that calls itself a chateau but…” Louis trails off. It still hurts, all his plans for prom that didn’t come to fruition.

Lestat kisses his cheek. “Well,” he says. “I know that both of us deserve far better than this, but what if we really lean into the prom night cliche and get a room at the motel that’s just off the main highway?”

“You mean the one you once described as being the location for upwards of 80% of blowjobs received by truckers within city limits?”

“That may have been a slight exaggeration.”

“No, it was probably accurate. And I’m pretty sure the rent a motel for prom night cliche requires someone to lose their virginity. Neither of us are qualified to fulfill that part of the cliche.

“Is that a no, then?” Lestat asks, his face falling.

“I didn’t say that,” Louis says.

Lestat perks up. “Is that a yes, then?”

“How far is it?”

“About ten minutes by car.”

“And you have a car?”

Lestat grins. “Borrowed my mum’s Mercedes.”

“Well, alright then,” Louis says, with mock hesitation. As if he wasn’t desperate for it. As if he hadn’t had been musing on half-formed plans of dragging Lestat away to the room where they taught gymnastics and seeing if sex on a trampoline was a great idea or a terrible one.

Without another word, Lestat’s hand is in his and he’s dragging Louis towards the exit, winking and blowing kisses at anyone who makes eye contact with him.

****

It takes seven and a half minutes to get to the shitty motel and about two minutes to check in.

“Why on earth did you use your fake ID?” Louis asks. “You’re 18 now, you don’t need it to rent a hotel room.”

“Yes, but I have an entire persona that goes with my fake ID and perhaps I’m not willing to give him up just yet.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “Whatever you say, _Lestan.”_ Lestat looks highly affronted at Louis’ amusement.

“If you’re going to be like that, maybe I won’t let you deflower me,” Lestat pouts. Louis laughs harder. The thought of Lestat having anything left to deflower is ridiculous.

Despite Lestat’s dramatics, as soon as the door is closed, he’s all over Louis.

“Wait,” Louis says, remembering something.

“What?” Lestat asks. There’s nerves and desperation in his eyes which makes Louis feel better about all of this. He’s not the only one who’s feeling this _thing_.

“We’ve gotta put towels or something down on the bed. Those sheets are probably nasty.”

Lestat raises an eyebrow. “And you think the towels will be cleaner?”

“Do you want to have sex tonight?” Louis counters.

Lestat dashes to the bathroom to search for towels while Louis strips the bed of the blankets and unattractive, brown quilt.

“A community centre prom and ending the night at a crappy motel. Not exactly the perfect, magical, unforgettable evening that movies and stuff promised it would be,” Lestat says, as he meticulously lays down the off-white towels on the bed.”

“Perhaps it wasn’t perfect,” Louis replies, as he unties his bowtie. “But magical and unforgettable? Maybe.”

“Just maybe?” Lestat teases, throwing himself onto the towel-covered bed.

“Well, let’s see how the rest of the evening goes,” Louis says, and joins Lestat on the bed.

****

They’ve been kissing long enough that their lips are swollen. Lestat’s on top of Louis. He’s straddling his waist and working to get the buttons of Louis’ shirt undone. (Louis had offered to do it himself but Lestat had batted his hands away saying it was less romantic.) Lestat himself is down to his underwear and shirt. His bowtie is undone and hanging around his neck. He looks absolutely sinful.

A laugh from the room next to theirs floats through the thin wall. Lestat stops his mission to get Louis out of his shirt to listen.

Through the wall, they hear the occupants of the adjoining room— one man, one woman from the sounds of their voices— have a muffled discussion. Then comes the sound of a body hitting the squeaky mattress followed quickly by a grunt and another squeak from the mattress as the second person joins the first on the bed.

Another moan. Then another. The mattress begins squeaking rhythmically. Louis sighs. This definitely was not his plan for prom. To be with Lestat, sure, but he’d never imagined it would be here, in a sleazy motel where they can so clearly hear their neighbour have sex that he's almost certainly had to pay for.

Unlike Louis, Lestat is grinning. “Do you think they’re genuine?” Lestat asks. “Her moans, I mean. They’re very loud, aren’t they?”

“Does it matter?” Louis asks with frustration. He’s begun to unbutton his own shirt because if the delay in activities lasts much longer, the mood might disappear entirely.

“Well,” says Lestat. “I’m just thinking if we can hear them, they can hear us and I would not like them to think that we were not having at least as good a time as them.” Lestat follows this statement by letting out a loud, theatrical moan.

“Lestat! Stop it!” Louis hisses. Lestat grins and moans again, louder.

“If you keep doing that, they’re not going to think we’re having a good time, they’ll think I’m murdering you!”

Lestat looks down at Louis with a gleeful expression on his face. “As always, _mon cheri_ , you’re right. It hardly sounds like a good time was had by all if they only hear one voice expressing its pleasure.”

“I’m not taking part in this ridiculous game,” Louis says.

“You won’t moan for me?” Lestat pouts, tracing his fingers along Louis’ chest.

Louis shivers. “No.”

“You sure?”

“Positive,” Louis gasps as Lestat’s hand creeps lower.

“I think you’re wrong,” Lestat tells him. “I think I can make you moan for me. Shall we find out?”

****

Lestat is right in his assertion. He doesn’t just make Louis moan, he makes him yell. By that point, the couple next door had gone quiet. Lestat, in his competition among people who didn’t even know they were competing, decided that he and Louis must not only be louder than their neighbours, they must last longer.

“We won,” Lestat pants once they’ve finished.

“Sure,” Louis agrees and pulls Lestat back to him so they can properly cuddle. Lestat’s arm disappears over the side of the bed and comes back with another towel which he throws over them. It makes for an insufficient blanket. Even wrapped so tightly together, the towel just lies on top of them, leaving their sides bare to the open air.

“I love you,” Lestat tells him. “I will always love you.”

“I love you too,” Louis murmurs. He curls closer to Lestat. He’s so happy to be here with Lestat, on prom night, in this shitty motel, curled up with him under a towel of questionable cleanliness.

Maybe, Louis thinks to himself as sleep begins to take him, maybe this time he and Lestat will beat their own record. Maybe they’ll manage to go seven or even eight weeks before their next breakup.

With this comforting thought, Louis adjusts himself in Lestat’s arms and falls asleep to the sounds of the man next door snoring and the woman trying and failing to be quiet as she picks up her things and leaves.


End file.
